the gold room

i had a dream about you.

we were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want.

...

we were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so i said what do you want, sweetheart?

and you said kiss me.

here i am, leaving you clues.

i am singing now while garlemald burns.

we are all just trying to be holy.

my applejack, my silent night, just mash your lips against me.

we are all going forward.

none of us are going back.

no you guys don’t get it; it’s so bad on tiktok. everyone on there is so insistent that foxface purposefully killed herself with the berries solely based off the two second clip in the movie (which wasn’t even identifying edible plants it was literally just matching).

like…… the whole point with foxface from the beginning was not to overestimate your competitors. when she talks about cato and foxface in the same passage she explicitly states that it’s just as dangerous to overestimate who you’re facing. in that she was thinking about how she might be overestimating cato’s intelligence, but then foxface goes and does the same with peeta. katniss constantly talked about how smart she was. she had made it to the final four solely off of taking from others just to keep herself alive. she had been doing it the entire games, but she trusted that peeta knew the berries he was grabbing. she probably didn’t even check to see what they looked like, because let’s be real. district five’s industry was ELECTRICITY. do you really think someone from the power district knows anything about edible plants? she saw the berries with the cheese and took some to fuel herself. because she assumed katniss and peeta were literally about to eat them. why on earth would she kill herself when she was three people away from winning? and if she knew they were poisonous and assumed katniss and peeta were about to eat them, she would’ve been final two. she could’ve waited for them to eat the berries, take katniss’s bow and arrows, and she would’ve had at least a fighting chance against cato. not to mention all the other districts HATE THE CAREERS. if she knew they were poisonous, decided to kill herself, and assumed katniss and peeta were going to eat them, that would’ve left cato as victor. there was no one else. she did not know they were poisonous. she overestimated peeta’s intelligence. it’s saying being stupid is dangerous for everyone.

said this on tiwtter too but im seriously at my limit, people go and be all like "oh my god young people have no idea of basic internet security omggggg" and the same person will immediately make an account on t/hreads that is stealing so much data from you its basically one step away from straight up kidnapping

i get we are all desperate, i really do, but i WILL judge you if you go and sign up for the literally shittiest app on earth thats really just a flimsy disguise of a bunch of data suckers in a trench coat

use tumblr, cohost, pillowfort, (the latter two also allow nsfw) ANYTHING but that suckerberg leech i am BEGGING you

idk how accurate it is but i saw the numbers of 75 MILLION sign ups for the threads bs, what the hell are you doing, i feel like im in one of those old anti technology comics were young people just walk off a cliff en masse bc they only look at their phone and nothing else while im the old guy in a chair watching them do it

continues to be a tough time for poets embarrassing themselves on the internet! here’s a link to an editorial where the guy who first published research identifying a link between poetry and mental illness explains why his methodology was flawed. (he actually doesn’t even mention what crossed my own mind reading this sentence: “My study was based on brief biographies in reference works, and it is easy to over-extrapolate.” — it strikes me as possible that the aspects of a biography that would be coded as indicating mental illness may be more likely to make it into such a text for poets precisely because of pre-existing cultural associations between poetry and mental illness.) also not sure why i would trust a literary scholar’s assessment of rates of mental illness, lol???? but please carry on reminding everyone how special you are 😊

Ok yall NEED to hear about Omega Flowey.

And no, I am not talking about Undertale. I am talking about minecraft.

Now, for context, my wonderful boyfriend runs a server that he plays on with me and our mutual friend. A while back, he made an unreasonably fast horse via fucking with commands. (This is why we don't let him be bored anymore. He has a task list now.) Mutual friend immediately claimed this horse who, alongside being faster than it had any right to be, also had a permanent white 'glow' effect. (Essentially a permanent outline that you can see through blocks and at distance, for those who do not minecraft.) It was christened 'Hyperdeath'.

So while we were all talking and laughing about this ABSURD horse that was barely even USEABLE, what the FUCK boyfriend, he mentions off-handedly that he made another before Hyperdeath, and that it was TOO fast. So, knowing full well Hyperdeath's speed, we had one question.

How fast was this horse? According to boyfriend, it was so incredibly fast that he INSTANTLY LOST IT. Cue a million jokes about boyfriend's self-tortured horse who may never know peace. But we eventually decide to just call him Omega Flowey (Only boss we could think of that was stronger than Asriel, God of Hyperdeath.) and hope that maybe one of us will find him some day and we can put him in an enclosure of some sort so he can stop charging endlessly onwards at impossible, impractical speeds.

Well, a bit ago, mutual friend actually FOUND HIM. Apparently water slows him down to basically nothing, and he had run at horrific speed into a river or something, I don't remember that well.

So I made a platform a block under the water and we tied him to a fence post while I built a barn around his platform. So that's where he lives now, live seahorse that he is, in just the right spot to scare the SHIT out of me and friend when we occasionally notice a slightly floating silhouette in the distance. We can't even ride him, because in the water he barely moves and out of the water we'd enter a new biome with a single tap of the w key.

Love you, Omega Flowey, you poor pathetic bastard. May you finally know rest from your uncontrollable mach 4 speed in your shallow pool of water.

I'm gonna let yall in on some peak advice.

This is TUMBLR DOT COM. Don't take the stuff you see seriously here. Thirst over (age appropriate) people, be weird and horny on main, who gives a shit?

And most importantly: if you see something you don't like: block, report, and move on with your day because at the end of the day, if you can log off and it's not effecting your irl, then it doesn't matter.

maverick in the movies: is the best of the best at a job that involves years of rigorous education, retaining massive amounts of information and performing split second calculations and decision making, is consistently seen with technical books whether they be piled up at his bedside table or actually being perused by him over coffee, had the qualifications for Annapolis which means his academic credentials in high school were at minimum above average, highly qualified in general and evidently a functional human being

maverick according to fandom:

when gerard way said “when i grow up i want to be nothing at all” i felt those words in my gdamn soul bro

I'd love to jump into the head of someone who is more emotionally aware than me. (I'm not smart, please don't interpret this as that) but I've always intellectualized things (always) for as long as I can remember.

I'd just love to experience the world from a perspective where you know what you're feeling.

I hate when I try to be whimsical and sweet and get infantilized and treated like a dumb ass as a result

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros is literal hot garbage and I will die on this hill.

2. Bolt

Breath of Morning

For @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast's FFXIVWrite 2022. [AO3 mirror] References to adult situations/NSFW content. Not explicit.

She wakes with a start to unfamiliar environs.

This is not her ceiling—not the canopy of canvas hung over the bed in her cliffside waystop; not the stone facade that rises above Mor Dhona, giving a name to the likeliest place for her to lay her head. This is certainly not the gilt-tracery mosaic of some Amaurot apartment.

It’s warm.

She hears the rise and fall of breathing far too steady to be her own, and Shasi slowly turns her head.

The spill of his blonde hair is lank and damp from the shower—bells must have passed since then, and in Thanalan the desert air would have wrung them both out long since, but … she strains to listen past Eros’s breathing, and yes; there is the distant rush of waves.

La Noscea, then. With him—neither should be a surprise. How often had she returned to Limsa Lominsa simply for him? Her head hurts and her throat is dry. His arms are heavy, still wound around her.

One touches the small of her back, fingers splayed loosely over the branching, fern-like scar, twin to the one on her front. His other hand is between her legs, thick fingers not quite reaching inside her. Shasi shifts her weight and finds herself sore; his fingertips spark that sensation anew.

Not a surprise that she’d come here. An inevitability. She had found him dancing for money, stole him away for a drink, and turned his head by refraining to follow up with the usual proposition. In return he had poured out a measure of trust; had laid before her a banquet of secrets and suffering, speaking of things too long unspoken. This she was used to.

Then Eros van Aventis—no, Eros yae Galvus—had asked her to unburden herself before him in turn.

This was strange.

So too the fact that she had fallen asleep in this rented bed—she had meant to linger only so long as it took him to fall asleep, but perhaps she had succumbed first. It will take some doing to extricate herself from his grasp, and yet she must. With war-callused hands she grasps his wrists, marveling at the black and red whorls of ink that decorate his skin. Slowly—ever so slowly—she unwinds them from about her.

He stirs, and she freezes, ears trained forward to catch any hitch in his breathing. Her attention lingers upon his face; the fringe of his pale lashes hides those golden eyes, and with his face slack in sleep the resemblance to his kin is more obvious than ever. Awake, he is rather too animated—not given to Zenos’s apathetic anomie nor Varis’s dour mien, the relative he most resembles, she finds, is his grandsire Solus. But Eros’s smiles are more expressive than wry, and that dimple in his cheek is not of the Galvus canon. Something of his mother’s, she supposes.

He does not rouse as she lays his arms loosely atop his chest. Shasi finds the room far colder once she’s slipped from the bed; she gathers her discarded clothing, clutching it to herself. There comes the oddest impulse to stay—after all, he had invited her to, less with words than deeds when he had turned on its face the chronometer meant to keep the time she was allotted with him. No less so when they had washed in the wake of their coupling and he had not handed her those garments she now holds against her body, but tugged her back into the bed that still smelled of them both. But she had been lucky to wake silent once and would not be so again. His face is so peaceful in repose, she thinks. She will not be the one to steal the ease from that countenance.

If she does not go now, she will never make it out. Shasi creeps across the floor, and quiet as she can, puts a door between them, standing naked in the silent halls of the bawdyhouse that—however impossibly—hosts a prodigal prince of the Empire. The sky is pre-dawn grey outside the distant windows, and she hastens to dress, confident now that the sound of her footfalls should not give her away.

Knowing not what she flees, X’shasi Kilntreader steals away into the last of the night.

y’know i think the most annoying thing about trying to discuss reproductive rights with cis people is the complete and utter refusal to include trans people in the discussion. like they will only ever say “women” and if you dare to point it out it’s “well this is all being done to control women” or “‘people with vaginas’/‘people assigned female at birth’ is way too wordy” it drives me fucking crazy

like first off do you seriously think that the people who seek to remove bodily autonomy from women have nothing against trans people. do you think they hold zero ill will towards us. also do you think they view trans afabs as anything other than women.

secondly. NOBODY IS ASKING YOU TO USE BIG WORDY PHRASES LITERALLY JUST SAY “PEOPLE” INSTEAD OF “WOMEN.” WE LITERALLY JUST DON’T WANT TO BE EXCLUDED FROM THIS BECAUSE WE ARE ALSO BEING HURT WE JUST WANT SOME GODDAMN SOLIDARITY IN THIS BITCH. LIKE ACTUALLY JUST FUCKING SAY “PEOPLE” IT SAVES EVERYONE FROM WEIRD LOOPHOLES AND ALSO ENFORCES THAT WOMEN ARE PEOPLE FOR FUCK’S SAKEEEEE

i actually cant do this

My partner started his new job and he works 100% from home and I'm going to go insane. I'm glad I'm looking elsewhere for work because as much as I love him, this might be too much.

Like he keeps wandering into my office during the day because he gets distracted and I'm just like "let me work in peace ffs"

It's annoying and I have to panic close everything because of HIPAA and sometimes he just scares the shit out of me. Today he got elbowed in the dick because I was focused on a service agreement and he came behind me to give me a hug.

.